“You have given us a great deal of labour,” he said, “and to no purpose. We shall have to report it all to my Lord Cromwell. I understand that you were the two who refused to sign the surrender. It was the act of fools, like this last. I have no authority to take you, so you had best be gone.” Dom Anthony answered him in an equally steady voice. “We are ready to go now,” he said. “You understand we have yielded to nothing but force.” Ralph’s lips writhed in a smile. “Oh! if that pleases you,” he said. “Well, then--” He took a little step aside, and made a movement towards the gate where there sounded out still an angry hum beneath the shouting voice that was addressing them. Chris turned to his father behind, and the voice died in his throat, so dreadful was that face that was looking at Ralph. He was standing as before, rigid it seemed with grief or anger; and his grey eyes were bright with a tense emotion; his lips too were as firm as his son’s. But he spoke no word. Sir Nicholas was at his side, with one foot advanced, and in attitude as if to spring; and Morris’s face looked like a mask over his shoulder. “Well, then--” said Ralph once more. “Ah! you damned hound!” roared the young squire’s voice; and his hand went up with the whip in it. Ralph did not move a muscle. He seemed cut in steel. “Let us go,” said Dom Anthony again, to Chris, almost tenderly; “it is enough that we are turned out by force.” “You can go by the church, if you will,” said Ralph composedly. “In fact--” He stopped as the murmur howled up again from the gate--“In fact you had better go that way. They do not seem to be your friends out there.” “We will go whichever way you wish,” remarked the elder monk. “Then the church,” said Ralph, “or some other private door. I suppose you have one. Most of your houses have one, I believe.” The sneer snapped the tension. Dom Anthony turned his back on him instantly. “Come, brother,” he said. Chris took his father by the arm as he went up the steps. “Come, sir,” he said, “we are to go this way.” There was a moment’s pause. The old man still stared down at his elder son, who was standing below in the same position. Chris heard a deep breath, and thought he was on the point of speaking; but there was silence. Then the two turned and followed the others into the cloister. CHAPTER VII AXES AND HAMMERS Chris sat next morning at a high window of a house near Saint Michael’s looking down towards the south of the town.